[PRP] Stubborn As A Yak (Vremea + Kursha)

[Green Minuet]

Where: Vremea's hive in Chittentown.
When: Directly following Errade's execution and the rebel's flight from the Phoenix Initiative HQ.

 

[quite uneventful]

It had taken Vremea quite a while to be able to tell Kursha where her hive was.

As she had stumbled out the cave, the yellowblood had to lean on the wall each time more and more, making an effort to move. She had lost track of the enraged redblood— which was fine. Vremea didn't want to bother her with her wounds, and hoped the redblood would make it back to her hive safe and sound. The screams of rage behind her only made her head hurt more— but her morale was strong, so she kept limping. She had whipped around when the hand had grabbed her shoulder. Kursha. The chilling click of his gun still made her pump biscuit thump hard, and she stubbornly brushed him off at first. She believed she didn't need help— but when she stumbled a little too much and almost fell flat on her face, she finally allowed herself to be helped. The directions to her hive were slow and mumbled, and while she struggled, she had managed to get the cloak around the both of them to at least slightly diminish suspicion. Not that it'd help much— It was fairly apparent how beat up the two of them were... At least, how bad she was. As they stumbled to her hive, her hushed whispers just made her more and more dazed.

Finally, they arrived at her quaint hive. It had a couch to the side near the luggage Odette and Athene brought. A large bookshelf was to the side, crammed with her favorite books and on top of it, it had awards she'd won from past Bloodfest events as well as the gerbil racing tournament. A picture of herself and Keionx in their party attire was framed to the side, next to another photo of her as a teenager with her closest friends, right before they responded to their respective calls, ages ago— Odette, Milieu, Athene, and Lunear. Her gerbils skittered around in their cages, well fed and chittering, the only noise in the room besides their entrance. A door to the side of the room led to the hallway to the bedroom and the bathroom. A half empty cup of water was left on the table, next to the miniature kitchen she had to the side, with black lipstick on the cup— It seemed one of the girls had left it out before they'd left. The room felt homely and comfortable, almost fitting to the loving troll.

The first thing Vremea heard was a loud grunt. Yakmom. A loud sob of relief slid out her. She was so glad her lusus was okay. When she had the time, she had knocked down a hole in the wall to be able to spend more time with her— she had avoided her her first few sweeps, but now, disregarding her smell, they were closer than ever. She, however, did not wish to show more weakness than she already had— She was in a pretty bad shape, now. The last time this happened, she was surrounded by her scouts. That isn't the case, this time. Now, she was...

Well, with Kursha. But... She was extremely suspicious about his intentions. Why had he just decided to help her? This was strange. Vremea didn't see him as the compassionate type. Especially after he exploded things during the war— It just made things worse, really, picturing him... But if he was helping her, it was for a reason. Hopefully, a good one. She was also a little curious about information she had heard during the investigation, and what she had witnessed happen between him and Stryke. Maybe she'd be able to ask him?

But not right now. Right now, her head and body ached. With a tired look to the couch that explained all what she wanted to say, Vremea's eyes drooped tiredly. Hopefully she had enough strength left in her to be able to tell him to use her broach on her.

Katanari

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

The trip to Chittentown was not an easy one. The night air was restless, and the pair found themselves battered by hostile winds as they passed from the desert dunes into the flats. Twice, Kursha had tried to suggest that they return to the base to spend the day, but Vremea was adamant. Nothing he said would change her mind. Eventually he fell silent, only speaking every once in a while to confirm their direction.

When Vremea's hive appeared on the horizon, Kursha felt a surge of relief. The sky was getting bright, and it would be dangerous to be out for much longer; he had begun to think that they might not make it. The hordes of zombies were of little concern to him, but he had no defence against the sun. Turning, Kursha regarded his companion. The yellowblood was pale and her face was drawn. That was hardly a surprise. With no time to care for her injuries, she had only lost even more blood over the course of their journey. He squeezed her side a little tighter to keep her upright.

The final stretch seemed to take forever. Even though they still had some time before dawn by the time they reached Vremea's hive, it was cutting it close. Vremea's wounds and Kursha's weariness had taken their toll. When they reached the doorstep, Kursha temporarily released Vremea to hold the glaive while his other hand fumbled with a the doorknob. A moment later, there was a click, and the door swung open. He ushered her inside.

Under different circumstances, Kursha would have been all over Vremea's hive. At the present though, he was more concerned with getting her settled in. The yellowblood's look told him all he needed to know. Guiding her over to the couch, Kursha eased her into a sitting position. Then, when he was sure she was not going to tip over, he left to lean Odette's glaive up against one of the bookshelves. There was a pause as he took a breath and studied his surroundings. His eyes carefully absorbed everything around him.

“Water?” he asked, gaze returning to Vremea. He licked his dry lips, then made a face. Even with Vremea's cloak shielding him, he was covered in sand. He could feel it in his hair, under his fingernails, between his toes... s**t. He supposed he tracked some in with him. He looked guilty towards the floor, confirmed it, and decided not to worry about it for the moment. Besides, maybe she was used to it.

quite uneventful

 

[quite uneventful]

The yellowblood allowed herself to slide into the couch easily, and stayed completely still, breathing slowly and carefully. Before she could start to focus and tell him about her broach, Vremea heard his question, straight to the point.

"Water?"

His question pulled Vremea out of the fog that was her mind, and all she could do was weakly point out to Kursha where the kitchen was, near the refrigerator. "O... Over there..." She said with a small rasp to her voice, throat cracked and dry as she struggled to focus. "Cups... On top." She shuddered slightly, reaching for the broach on her neck and fiddling with it, trying to do it herself so as to not bother Kursha. But, of course, as luck would have it, Vremea's fingers grew stiff and and the broach fell out of her hands, to the floor. With a miniature groan at her stupidity, she lay back on the couch, uncaring of the blood seeping out onto it. "When... You can, could you, ugh, get me that?" She asked, coughing a few times before hugging herself with her hands. She hadn't meant to be as much of a bother that she was now. She wished she could apologize, but really, all she could do was lay limp trying to recollect her thoughts.

Katanari

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

At Vremea's instructions Kursha disappeared into the nutrition block. He was gone for no more than twenty seconds, and then returned, glass in hand. Making his way over to the couch, he set it down on the side table next to Vremea's head. He had hardly done so, when Vremea asked if he could pick up her broach.

“Do you have a kit or something somewhere?” he asked, stooping down. He plucked the small object from off the floor. “I mean, I'm sure I could improvise but... you know.” He offered the broach to her. It had not occurred to him that it might be anything other than a simple piece of jewellery.

quite uneventful

 

[quite uneventful]

Kursha's words sounded like screams whenever he spoke to her, and eventually, every thought she wanted to say and explain became too jumbled for her to try to say. Instead, Vremea sat up slightly, body protesting against her. With no warning to Kursha, the yellowblood leaned into the artifact, forehead pressing against the button in the middle, a glowing light emanating from the broach.

Slowly, the yellowblood started to feel better. Her cuts grew smaller, her head stopped hurting to some extent... Vremea exhaled after a couple seconds of the broach pressed against her forehead, feeling the stress leave her mind. The artifact stopped glowing soon after, needing time to power up again. With a soft sigh, Vremea pulled away from the broach, blinking tiredly, finally able to think at least somewhat straight. Looking up at Kursha, she gave him a small smile. "Thank you." She whispered with a little effort. The concussion was definitely still there, but thankfully, less draining due to the wound being healed up. The yellowblood took the broach from him, albeit a little shaky, and adjusted her seating on the couch to make more space for him. "I apologize for not warning you. My mind was too scattered. In a few minutes, I can do the same to you." She murmured, looking at his wounds, willing to help him in thanks for his help. "Sit, please. Make yourself at home."

Katanari

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

“Hey, careful. You shouldn't be...” Kursha's voice caught in his throat when a warm light appeared between his fingers; it was coming from the broach. He almost pulled away in surprise. “What—?” he began, rapidly shifting his gaze to Vremea. He did not bother to finish. The yellowblood's eyes were distant and unfocussed. It was as though she were in a trance. Meanwhile, the wounds she had received from the battle began to heal: places where the skin had been cut melded back together and bruises faded entirely. Kursha could not help but stare.

When the light faded, Vremea settled back down on the coach. Gently she pulled the broach from his paralysed fingers. Kursha's brow furrowed and he struggled to find the words. “Was that—artefact?” he finally managed. It had been his first time seeing one in action. He was impressed. Not only did the yellowblood hold sway of death, but life too. Reminding himself why he had come, Kursha chased that silly thought away.

“It's all right. It's healing power. What's there to warn me of?” He offered her a thin smile. “'Oh no. There goes that scab on my finger. I wanted to keep that.' Please. It'll take more than sealed wounds and glowing knickknacks to spook me. Anyway, I'll be fine.” In between the jab from Rasali and the blow he had taken from Errade's flunky, his ribs argued otherwise. He would never admit that though.

Per Vremea's request, Kursha sat. He might have been happier left standing. His eyes wandered the room furtively, and his feet were restless. He crossed his ankles, uncrossed them, crossed them again, and then brought one foot up to rest on his knee. Looking down at his hands, he laced his fingers.

“Sooooo,” he began, speaking slowly. “I know we just got back and all but... about what happened back there...”

quite uneventful

 

[quite uneventful]

The adult nodded at his question if it was an artifact or not and slid it back on her bow— it was one of her most precious items. When she had received it, she had only just enough to get it. Looking over to Kursha as he spoke, Vremea offered him a light chuckle, mouth curling into a slight smile. "If you say so. However, if I see or hear a single wince or whine of pain from you, I will not hesitate to heal you. Do you understand?" Vremea said this as if there was no room for discussion. She had become a lot bossier recently, and although she was an adult and from what she heard, it came with age, she really needed to tone it down sometimes. It might've actually offended someone.

Eyeing Kursha as he sat next to her, Vremea instantly felt a little bad when she realized how tense he was. He wasn't complaining, but Vremea knew he was anxious by his posture and his constant movement. Meanwhile, Vremea was completely calm, after healing. Safe for her fiddling hands, her body was right a home in the plushy couch.

Right when she was about to offer to heal him again— perhaps her own healing would make him calm down a little— She heard his words, then heard him trail off... Her eyes instantly darted over, staring at him directly in the eyes. "I said everything that I wanted to say." She said a little stiffly, adjusting her posture and straightening up, fixing a button on her shirt. Her eyes strayed, glancing over to the cup on the counter. "Thankfully, Odette said everything I would've liked to say. I definitely do not agree with their methods." Remembering the click of his gun, the yellowblood's eyes darted over toward him. Yes, he... Was apart of the group with opposite ideals. "She may have been horrible. An indirect killer, the worst type of killer. But... Death... Death is a horrible thing. It is permanent... And shows that we are not much better than them. Using force against force just brings more pain. More suffering." Her tired eyes fell to her wrist, where her hand carefully slid around her bracelet and played with its stones. Two spots were missing— two places where she had yet to decide whether or not to add more people she cared of. Her hand slid over Odette's, massaging the color with her thumb. "I just... Do not think death was the only answer. I will not apologize for my own beliefs."

As a kid, she would have. She would've apologized for thinking and speaking out of line, especially to a higherblooded troll, but now, she honestly did not care if she was being rude or selfish. She had cared for many sweeps. It was her own turn to receive some caring.

Katanari

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha took in the yellowblood's words soberly. He paid special attention to her body language, word choice, and intonation, while simultaneously processing the top layer of intent. She was not nervous, but she was uncomfortable. Guarded. So far he had done nothing to incur suspicion. Why then was she so tense? As she spoke, her gaze darted towards him and it clicked into place. He was a part of the other side. Errade's murderers. One of the enemy. Kursha's mouth dipped. He would have to play carefully or everything was ruined, personal agenda aside.

“No better than them, huh?” he repeated, leaning back. “I don't know about that. Sure, it may have been an impassioned killing—I'm not gonna lie, Akko looked pretty pissed right there at the end—but there was good reason to put her down too, aside from personal feelings of vengeance or whatever. I mean, what would you have us do? She knew everything about the initiative. So what? We keep her around and torture her for information? Burn out her tongue, cut off her hands, and release her into the wilderness so she can't talk? Lock her up in a cell for the rest of her miserable life, wasting valuable resources might I add on a person who unprovoked and unjustified was responsible for the death of thousands?” Kursha paused.

“From where I'm standing, there was no happy ending for her. But maybe I'm wrong. If you've got an alternative, I wanna hear it.” He met her eyes, his own gaze even.

quite uneventful

 

[quite uneventful]

Kursha's words were true. Vremea knew it, it wasn't bloodlust talking, and even before when she disagreed with them all, she knew that they were right. But Vremea just couldn't accept death as the only option. At his last words, the yellowblood's eyes locked with his. She then looked away, sighing, shoulders sagging. "I do not know. I just know that death... Death is bad." She didn't know how else to respond. Pursing her lips again, Vremea adjusted herself, trying to elaborate. "I do understand what you mean. I... Honestly do. I have looked at it from a strategic point, and it is better that she is... dead. But. Death..." She closed her eyes, vividly remembering how Aendal's body ripped apart at the seams from his own plants and also how he lit the entire battlefield to kill all those trolls along with him. He committed suicide twice. She shuddered at the thought of death by her own hands. "Death has only brought destruction." She then sighed. "Anger and hurt. Loss." She murmured, remembering Odette's fierce depression after Swanmom's death and the orangeblood from that time Milieu needed help in the desert, relocating the misplaced trolls from OHC.

"I just... try not to see it as an option..." Vremea's voice was small now, almost guilty, before clearing her throat, not letting herself fall to self-conciousness. "I still think we all should have gotten the option to vote on what to do with her." She clenched her teeth, looking down at her folded hands and going back to fiddling with the bracelet again. "Then we could see the ideas everyone had for her. She was a terrible troll and she definitely did not deserve any sort of luxury. If the same was to come, well..." She bit her lip. "At least we would have been able to look away."

Katanari

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha wanted to understand. Desperately so. Despite all his efforts, he could not follow Vremea's reasoning. What she was discussing was unthinkable; it bordered on insanity. Sure, death sucked. It brought anger, hurt, loss, all those things she mentioned, and blah, blah, blah. But it also brought victory. Anything less, and they would be the dead ones. And if they were dead then so too was their mission.

“Look away, huh?” Kursha echoed. Another thing he failed to comprehend. He tried not to think about it too much. “Maybe you're right. The concept of voting on someone's life seems a little tacky to me, but I guess we kinda did it anyway minus a few ballots. What's the harm in formalising it?”

Kursha stood. He had sat down at Vremea's request but found himself unable to sit still. “But Vrem, either way you gotta remember what you're a part of.” The situation was oddly familiar. Troubled, he turned away from her. “We're on death row just for our allegiances. The queen and her cronies would wipe us out without batting an eye. Against a force like that, we don't stand a chance unless we fight back with everything we got. And yeah, sometimes that means getting our prongs dirty. But you know what? That's okay.” he paused.

“We can't afford to be martyrs and we can't afford to fight with ideals in place, because the Phoenix Initiative isn't fighting for us. It's fighting for the future. Fighting like we've already won will lose us everything. So, I gotta ask: for a goal like that, is it worth it to make a few sacrifices?”

quite uneventful

 

[quite uneventful]

Vremea stayed quiet as she listened to Kursha's words, fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist and staring at the floor, thinking hard about his questions. Her mind was fighting against itself, an internal debate she couldn't let go. Her morals and the right thing were two completely different arguments, but it couldn't be as black and white as Kursha said it was. Vremea tightened and relaxed her jaw, showing indecision and touching each of the beads individually, pursing her lips. She felt small and like she was in the wrong, with him standing. He was taller than her anyways, but it... Still bothered her.

"It should not be okay." Vremea said in a small voice, feeling extremely vulnerable, almost stripped of her adulthood. This was getting too deep for her liking, and Vremea wasn't feeling comfortable with that. She was not about to spill her guts to someone other than her morail. "I-I... Sacrifices..." Why couldn't there be another option? The yellowblood crossed her arms, slightly tense. "Why is it so black and white with you all...?" She closed her eyes, sighing and pursing her lips. "Fighting fire with fire is still not the correct way to do things. We will all end up burned..." The thoughts had been planted in her mind, and as she went over their options, it felt almost like the brutal way was the only way. But... couldn't there ever be a grey area?

"The future looks the same to me." She said dully, referring to the death and destruction that had been wrought upon on either side. If they--by some dumb stroke of luck-- managed to survive and win, how would they be remembered? Ruthless killers, just like the army? This was most of the reason she wanted to leave the movement in the first place. Odette is right. Adjusting her neck bow, the yellowblood stood up straighter and cleared her throat. "Since it is getting light out, you can stay here for the day. I'm sure Odette and Athene are somewhere safe..." She looked toward the door nervously, adjusting her skirt. Although she wished to go look for them, the light and zombies that roamed during the day were things the adult was definitely not willing to play with. "I have an extra portable recuperacoon that is unused. You can stay here or in the bedroom, I do not mind. Where would you like to stay?" Vremea asked, voice back to normal. She definitely did not wish to make a guest, even Kursha, feel unwelcome. Her hive was supposed to be comforting and welcome, no matter who decided to visit.

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha ignored her offer of hospitality. She may have thought the conversation was over, but he refused to let it finish unless it was on his terms. Besides, there was no way in hell he was going to let her dodge such an important issue.

“So, that's it then?” he said, back still to her. He held his hands in front of him, so that Vremea could not see his clenched fists. “Here's where you're callin' it quits?”

quite uneventful

Next one will probably be longer.

 

[quite uneventful]

Blinking, the yellowblood couldn't help but frown and cross her arms. "'Calling it quits...?" Vremea repeated, clenching her flat teeth while she pursed her lips tightly as an edge slid into her voice. "Kursha. Do not test me." The yellowblood said staring directly at the other's back and standing up, adjusting her skirt. Maybe he didn't understand where she was getting at. "I am done with this conversation." Hopefully that made things a little clearer. "I will sleep on it. But I do not want to talk. Not now. Now, which recuperacoon would you like, or would you prefer to stay up all morning?"

Katanari

same here OTL

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

There was a long pause after Vremea finished. Kursha focussed on his breathing. Eventually, his hands stopped shaking and came to rest at his sides. He had hoped to rile her in an attempt to get her to open up, but not only had she shut him down, she had dismissed him entirely. Apparently his concern was insignificant. Like that of a child's. She was treating him like he was a child.

“I'll just go,” Kursha muttered. Without looking back at Vremea, he strode towards the door. So what if he burned? So what if he was attacked by shadowdroppers? Any place was better than here, where he clearly was not wanted. Sulky with spite, he added, “I wouldn't want to impose,” and then propped open the door.

quite uneventful

I guess I lied.